


Enhanced But Still Human.

by FinickityinFields123 (lifetheuniverseandeverything42), lifetheuniverseandeverything42



Series: Attack of the plot bunny! [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crew Actually Have a Heart, Crew Not Idiots, Crew as Family, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Episode: s06e09 Statistical Probabilities, Family Feels, Friendship, Genetic Engineering, Genetically Engineered Beings, Hurt/Comfort, Hurting Julian Bashir, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, POV Julian Bashir, Post-Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22771324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifetheuniverseandeverything42/pseuds/FinickityinFields123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifetheuniverseandeverything42/pseuds/lifetheuniverseandeverything42
Summary: Sort of AU where the crew of Deep Space Nine actually have hearts and are not idiots (as stated in the tags) and are there for Julian when his secrets come out in the episode: 'Dr Bashir, I presume'.The struggles as a family and as individuals in the time following the episode's conclusion.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Benjamin Sisko, Julian Bashir & Jadzia Dax, Julian Bashir & Jake Sisko, Julian Bashir & Kira Nerys, Julian Bashir & Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir & Quark, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Attack of the plot bunny! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776028
Comments: 18
Kudos: 56





	1. Whispers

He could feel them watching.

He could hear them whispering.

He could smell their fear, their awkwardness and their distaste for him.

He knew how they felt.

Julian had given up hiding by this point.

It was a small station; everyone knew by now.

Words uttered in bitterness, they tasted sour in his mouth; he spat them out and they burned him. Miles didn't have a clue.

He was certain several betting pools had been set up (he hoped somewhere deep down not by Quark) regarding his 'abilities'.

He knew for a fact several interactions just this morning had been not-so-inconspicuous tests for his reflexes, memory and IQ.

He felt so alone.

Even the carefully built up relationships with those around him were now broken seemingly beyond repair.

O'Brien had continued to play darts with him, until Bashir was winning every game - under Miles' insistence that he 'play properly' - despite the blindfold, greater distance and eventual throwing backwards the engineer had tried.

Sisko barely bothered with him anyway, his opinion of him as brash and egoist only encouraged by the recent revelations.

Jadzia was hurt and after an intense conversation where she cried and Julian was so useless in helping her she soon withdrew her friendship.

And the whole station knew how Garak had reacted to being successfully fooled.

He was all alone. Just like he had always been doomed to be.

His work was no longer a challenge.

His latest research finished, written up and uncertainly published with a callous note added by Starfleet about its author.

He hadn't had the heart to face beginning another.

So his hours became emptier and emptier.

He no longer had to spend so long meticulously completing his reports with careful errors.

Nor did he need to concoct his various drugs which had previously been taken religiously to slow him down.

Now, barred from concealing himself by order of his commanding officer, he was forced to endure the too-bright lights and the too-loud noise that never ceased.

People. People were so much. He could hear their breathing, see every muscle in their faces contract as he stared at them.

He would watch their pupils dilate as he talked with the faceless people who could still stand to be around him.

In the first week after the secret came out Julian had faced a series of refusals to be treated by him.

His acute sense of smell and sharp eyes ever scanning their faces did not need to tell him what all others plainly saw.

People feared him.

It was even worse when a gambler who had bet he could catch a knife thrown at him down the length of the Promenade did just that.

And Julian's reflexes unwittingly obliged in full view of a packed station, plucking the spinning blade right out of the air.

Never mind that if he hadn't it would have hit a visiting Bajoran child stood behind him.

Never mind that the one who had thrown it at him was a drunk and betting that he was 'unnatural' enough to catch it.

Never mind that he wished he had simply stepped into its path and put everyone out of their misery.


	2. What I've been all my life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the conversations of S5:E9 (Statistical Probabilites), Bashir feels more alone than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be more than a one shot, but it has been months and even after rewatching 'Doctor Bashir, I Presume' I had nothing. Then I watched 'Statistical Probablities' (again, repeatedly) and was fascinated by the conversation that basically the whole main cast has on the topic of genetic engineering. So... Now there's this.

After time to allow acceptance of his genetic status - the secret not even close to being a secret any more - Julian wished he could have felt some relief, some peace, in being finally able to have these sorts of conversations (honestly, that is) with those who were very important to him. But they were all being honest, not just him. The words of his friends - not even colleagues, _friends_ : though he doubts this daily - seared his brain; the strain of the other genetically engineered people's lives, that he had just wanted to ease (or even just be accepted or recognised at least), was turned over for debate and discussion.

He had just wanted some understanding friends in that moment; and Life had even denied him that. Was it truly so much to ask? Understanding, not just acceptance. It was hard enough to get acceptance, he reasoned, no need to ask for more than you are worthy of... Right?

As his inner pain began to leak through his carefully distanced exterior, the topic was abruptly changed; Julian stared at his hands, those perfectly crafted surgeons hands, and wanted to weep.

Was the universe not content with making him different? Did it have to make him different from those who were different as well? Julian wanted to shout, to scream, to get out these thoughts that clawed at him from the inside.

The whispers grew, he began to listen to them. He barely heard the rest of the conversation, caught up in a plan for release - plain and simple. He looked up as Jack's voice came through the coms; surprised and yet not, Julian threw out some wisecrack then swiftly left the room - unable to help how his thoughts loudly mused on what the topic of conversation might become with his departure. His cold mind quickly considered that it would most probably be him and these 'mutants'...

After the group leave the station, Miles snide comments during darts make Julian stop and think for a moment - he is more alone now than he ever realised before. He never knew he could _connect_ like that with anyone, it makes him sad that he will always be alone; never truly accepted or a part of either side of the proverbial fence. Caught between two worlds, tolerated but not accepted by both...

His self-hatred rose up within him like a wave, threatening to drown him and drag him out to sea; more powerful than it had been for years.

'Them, them, them'. The word echoed in his ears long after he had last heard it spoken. 'Why is it always them?' he thought to himself as he sat in his lonely darkened quarters, 'And why am I never part of the us... I am never them, but I should be, but I am never us either. Neither side wants me - not even I want me...'

And though Miles tries. Not well, not particularly hard - but then Julian hardly makes it easy for him. He's the only one who truly does _try_. And he likes that, so sue him. Even if his friend thinks a side comment constitutes hours of therapy, even if he can never comprehend how Julian thinks and feels; he does try, a little. He'll take what he can get. It's no more than what he deserves, after all. 

And so he treasures his friendship with Miles. Even though he's longer sure how much is banter and how much is sharp judgement - he has no options, no back up friends to turn to. He is alone without Miles and he is alone anyway.

Now, sat alone and in the darkness, looking back he's torn between how he wished that conversation might have gone.

On the one hand, he wishes they had been a bit more... Subtle about their opinions, more mindful about his feelings - because genetically enhanced or not, he does have them - thoughtful about their words about genetically engineered people while in front of one.

But on the other hand, if they hand concealed their true view on the matter Julian would have known, would have picked up on it; and then would have felt like they were all secretly judging him, secretly hating him, all united against him.

Another 'them' for him to be different from - of course, that was already the case. But he did feel - for the most part - accepted by these people. His friends... He _wanted_ them to be able to be honest with him and he them, but it hurt that they didn't even consider the impact such hate-fillled (although that was just his perception of them) words directed almost straight at at him.

But they weren't _aimed_ for him, and that's what hurt so badly. That they didn't see him as the same (that the ohers were lesser) and though that could have made Julian feel better about himself and his friendships; it didn't. It simply made him feel more ostracised than ever, and now mute in the face of his friends. It's alright, he can be mute if that is what's needed; so long as they don't leave him - so long as he isn't truly alone (because he's not, he tells himself sternly, he's not alone right now - except that he is, in these quarters as black as night and silent as the dead he has become) he'll be alright.

He can cope. He _will_ cope. Because he's done it before... And because he hasn't got a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well yay? You got more of this fic...  
> I kinda feel like this one ended up a bit darker than its predecessor - I'm autistic so 'us & them' is sorta a strong topic for me. 
> 
> Comment and let me know what you think! Have a good day!


End file.
